Dropping Bombs
by OriginalPippie
Summary: The Monkees: Inspired by Micky's real life 1967 draft notice during the Vietnam War. This is what would happen to fanfic Micky if he got drafted.


Micky's POV

The lump formed in my throat and it was so hard that I could not even begin to try to swallow it. I felt as though I was no longer able to breathe as I stood there. Hot tears began burning behind my eyes but somehow I managed to keep them from escaping. The words on the paper in my hands were blurred, more than usual. Everything and everyone around me had disappeared, including sound. This moment, this very moment as I held my eyes fixed on the paper in my hands, was probably the first time in my life where I had been completely still and utterly silent. My stomach began to churn and I felt my knees shaking. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. I wanted to smash my fists through the nearest wall. I wanted to… I… fuck I had no idea what I wanted to do. But I knew what I didn't want to do; leave home. I didn't want to leave the beach house, the beach, LA… America. I didn't want to leave my closest friends and family behind. But I was being forced to. And for _what_? A God damned fucking war that our country had no business getting involved with in the first place. It wasn't out war to fight! And yet I, among many other men around my age, had just been drafted.

I felt Mike place a hand on my shoulder I looked up from the paper and at his face. As usual he held tightly onto his cool, emotionless exterior But I wasn't sure if this was for my benefit or his own. My tears at this point were still trying to force themselves back but it was getting more and more difficult at every given second that went by. Despite the lack of emotion upon Mike's face I could see the great deal of sincerity within his dark eyes. All I could do as I looked at him was let out a sigh. Somehow I knew what he was going to say. It'll be okay shotgun. We'll all help you through this. Chin up and be strong. Do what you have to do. And all that. Those were supposed to be comforting words, and I'll admit that I needed to hear some. But comforting words was not all that I needed. I think Mike understood this at this moment because instead of giving his usual speech chuck full of comforting words and some words of wisdom, he simply gave a nod of his head. This nod however said a great deal. It said exactly what I needed right then.

I threw my arms around Mike snuggly and rested my chin on his shoulder. With his arms around me he patted my back soothingly. I should have been crying in that moment. But tears still did not fall from my eyes. Instead I just let out another sigh. This should not have been happening to me. But it was. It wasn't fair at all. And I was not alone. I pulled away from Mike and looked briefly in his eyes. We both frowned. There was nothing that needed to be said. I stepped away from him and crumpled the paper that was still in my hand into a ball before tossing it to the floor behind me. Not knowing what I was actually doing I found myself wandering slowly over to the bandstand. There I stood in front of my drums just… staring. Behind me I could feel Mike standing there still in his place and watching my every move. I heard the front door open and then Davy and Peter entering the house. The lump returned to my throat as I knew right then, that they had yet to find out the grim news. Mike had actually found out before me because he was the one who had brought in the mail and saw the draft notice with my name on it. Davy and Peter started out in such a happy mood when they first entered the house. But that mood quickly got sucked out of them the moment they saw me. Even though I was not facing them I could tell that they were looking over at me with expressions of concern. In my mind I could then see them looking at Mike for some kind of answer as to what was going on. My eyes that were focused on my drums the entire time had now closed. A single tear slowly rolled out of one of my eyes and crept down my cheek. This was the very first tear that I managed to shed the entire time since Mike handed me that dammed draft notice.

I clenched my fists and held them closed tightly by my sides. I wanted so much to punch someone right then but there was no one around that I would have felt good about punching. There was only one thing I could take all this out on. With my fists tightly clenched I raised my hands and then smashed them down hard onto the two tom-toms before me. My voice exploded from deep within me as I punched and kicked at my drum set. From behind me I heard Davy and Peter exclaim their words of shock and that of which they thought would get me to stop my sudden anger-filled actions. But I ignored them and went on destroying my beloved drums. I even had heard Mike tell them to just let me be. After knocking my drum set over I then turned my attention to the other instruments. However, when I was about to smash Mike's guitar on the floor, Mike had rushed over and yanked it out of my hands. At this point I had tears streaming down my face. I felt Peter put his hands on my arms to steady me. He started saying things to calm me down but I had no idea what he was saying. My knees buckled and I dropped to the floor, out of Peter's grasp. Peter knelt down beside me and wrapped his arms tightly around me, pulling me close. All I could do then was weep as he held me and whispered soothing words.

The four of us stood there silently and with heavy hearts. This was it. My time had come to leave my four dearest friends behind. The last thing that I wanted to do right then was get on board that fucking bus with the other poor souls who had been drafted along with me. I couldn't bear to even look at them as we stood there. My bag I held loosely in my hand by the strap. It dangled by my side as I stood there with my head permanently angled downward. With every second that went by my impending doom as I saw it was inching ever closer. Only when I heard my name called did I lift my head. There they were with mixed expressions of sadness and pride was the members of my family. My mother practically flew to my side and held the sides of my face in her hands and she kissed me. She then threw her arms around my neck and said how she didn't want her "baby boy" to leave despite the fact that she was at the same time proud that I was going to be fighting for our country. Fighting for our fucked up country. In a fucked up war that wasn't even our fucked up God damned war in the fucking first place! What a joke. I wanted to personally choke out the bastard who invented the draft. I wanted to get a time machine and take me back to before I even got the draft notice so I could stop it from even reaching me.

When my mom managed to pry herself away from me I looked at my dad. His expression was solemn and yet he had a very slight grin on his face. He told me he was proud of me. What was there to be proud of though? That I didn't ditch to another country like I should have done? I managed to put up a front the best that I could but inside I was hurting. I was terrified. I was furious. I wanted to run. And with my fake ass grin I hugged my family and said goodbye to them. They stepped away and left me alone with the guys. There was silence once again. I looked at the three of them one by one and read their expressions. Mike's expression made me want to be strong and continue doing what I had come here for. Davy's expression made my heart sink as I stared into those large brown doe-eyes of his. I watched him swallow his tears as he looked at me not knowing what to say. Peter's expression caused my heart to crumble into a million pieces. He almost seemed ashamed of me. I knew what he was thinking and feeling. He felt the same way I did about this war but a million times more. The way he looked at me made me feel like some kind of monster. And I hadn't done anything! The last thing I wanted to be doing was going off to war and kill people. I couldn't even imagine myself doing just that. But here I was about to embark on this nightmarish journey. Then very quietly a single word slipped through my lips towards Peter as I gazed into his tear-filled eyes.

"Sorry…"

He nodded his head full of sadness and hatred towards the war that was taking me away from everyone there.

"You had no choice." His voice was just as quiet as mine

The time had finally come when I had to board the bus. I turned to my family and gave them each a final hug goodbye. Then I turned back to the guys. In this moment I felt we truly were brothers. Not just friends. Not just band mates. Brothers. And I did not want to let any of them go. Peter was the first one I hugged. I knew that if I hugged him last I would have not have got on the bus. And I needed to get on the bus because the sooner I got on it, the sooner I could get this fucking war bullshit over with and the sooner I could be back home where I belonged. The next one I hugged was Davy. When I pulled away from him I saw him shake as he tried with all his might to force back his tears. I had to quickly turn to Mike so I wouldn't have to force back my own tears. Mike looked at me for a couple seconds, completely stone-faced. He then wrapped his arms around me in a nice firm hug and patted my back. As I was about to pull away from him he pulled me closer for a moment. He then whispered in my ear three words that I will always keep with me.

"Be strong, shotgun."

He then let me go and looked me directly in the eye. I swear that I could see tears forming in Mike's eyes but I know he would never admit it to anyone even if they told him that they were about to cry as well. The thing that nearly broke my heart all over again was what took place in the next moment. All three of them stood at attention and gave me a single salute. I, albeit sadly, saluted them back and then turned to get on the bus.

Once I was on the bus and had found a seat, I let out a heavy sigh. I turned my eyes out the window next to me and placed a hand against the glass. I did not take my eyes off the sight before me as the bus began to drive away. The image of the three of them standing there watching the bus leave was so gut-wrenching and yet I could not look away. I wanted to see them as long as I possibly could. These images were going to be seared into my brain.

I dread the fact that these have been the first images to flood my mind as I lie here on the ground. I hope that they are not the last ones though. Mother fucker! Oh God… what's going to happen to me? I barely remember what happened even though it had just taken place just seconds ago. I didn't even see where the bullet had come from. It's strange that I'm not feeling pain right now but I know I'm going to be filled with excruciating pain very soon. Everything is so loud around me and yet it all seems so far away. So many shouts and explosions going on around me. So much to take in. I have to close my eyes but I know I shouldn't. Oh God… my blood… Shit the pain! The pain has just now hit me all at once! Someone please help me!

"Let's hurry and get him on the stretcher!"

"How close is the field hospital?"

"INCOMING!"

Oh holy hell… so many shouts around me. I just don't want to die. Not here. Not now. Not like this. Ok so they're moving me now. Hopefully now they'll be able to save me. How bad am I any way? God damn FUCK! I hope I get sent home over this. Please just help me. I don't want to die…

(Out of Micky's POV)

Mike walked over to the door and opened it. He took a small step back, a little stunned at who he saw standing there. He had a crew cut and was wearing a dress army uniform. Tucked under his arm was a triangle-folded American flag. In his hands were a few small items: pictures, letters in envelopes and other small trinkets. Mike stood up straight as he looked at this uniformed young man. Davy and Peter approached the door and stood by Mike, also looking at the man. Chills ran through their bodies as they received the same feeling about the reason behind this man's presence. The man outstretched his white-gloved hand towards Mike and firmly shook his hand. He then stood at attention and saluted the three of them before addressing himself.

"I understand that the three of you gentlemen have been close friends of Private George Dolenz." The three Monkees were silent as they confirmed his statement "It was of his final request that I give you gentlemen these." He handed the items to the three of them "He also wanted me to tell you that he will never forget you. I'm so sorry for your loss. But if it's any consolation he put up one hell of a fight, and he did his country proud."

Mike cleared his throat "Thank you…" His voice came out somewhat quietly

The man saluted them all before turning on his heel and out the door. Mike closed the door behind him and then turned to Peter and Davy. They each looked at the items they held in their hands. These were pictures that they had sent to him; pictures of the four of them together but with a special note written by Micky on the back of each one. These were also letters that had been sent to Micky from them, and a couple letters that Micky had not yet been able to send to them in reply. The small trinkets included a couple unused guitar picks, Micky's pinky rings and a single pin from his uniform. The pin was one that Peter had given him before he left for war; a small white dove Micky had kept it pinned on his uniform just above his heart, the entire time he fought in the war. Every time he looked at it he thought about the three guys and how he was going to come back home to see them again.

Mike, Davy and Peter then looked up at each other at the same time. They knew that this was a possibility when Micky had gone off to war, but it was the last one they were anticipating. They believed that they were going to get the chance to welcome Micky home with a joyous celebration. But instead they knew that the next time they were going to get to see him was at his funeral. None of them ever wanted anything close to this every happening to either of them. But they knew that this sort of thing was happening to lots of people because of the war. It wasn't fair to lose someone they had grown to love as a brother, especially to the cruelty of this war. It should have never happened; not to Micky and not to anyone else who had lost his life in the midst of battle. But this was something that needed to be faced by the three of them. They were going to get through this tragic loss together, no matter how long or what it took for them to do so. They might have lost one of their closest friends and brother in the physical sense but they realized that Micky was going to stay with them forever.


End file.
